


The Present

by FanofCate



Category: Carol (2015) RPF, The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 18:24:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10038206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanofCate/pseuds/FanofCate
Summary: Cate Blanchett arrives at her dressing room to find an unexpected guest.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I know I should be working on "Love and politics" but this story kept popping up in my head...

New York, February 2017

I.

“Miss Blanchett, you have a guest. She’s waiting in your dressing room.”

The doorman handed her a small package, while opening the door to the lobby of the Barrymore Theatre for her.

“She asked me to give you this.”

Frowning, Cate took the package from him. 

“Do you know who she is?”

“She didn’t say her name. Said you were expecting her.”

He continued, seeing her hesitation.

“Shall I come with you?”

She looked at the small box in her hand and let it slip into her bag. She wasn’t expecting anyone, but her curiosity got the better of her.

“Thank you Melvin, but I’m sure I can manage.”

She took a side door, entering the labyrinth of corridors leading to the dressing rooms. There was no one else in sight on this early Sunday morning. Cate had decided to come early before the matinee, to enjoy some rare quiet hours away from the bustle at her apartment. Andrew was over from Sydney and he didn’t mind taking care of the children, not having seen them for a few weeks. She stopped in front of her dressing room, wondering who would be there. Shifting her shoulder bag she opened the door.  


There was a dark haired woman sitting in the chair at the small make up table in front of the mirror. Only seeing her black clad back, Cate at first didn’t recognize her. Shifting her gaze to the mirror, she was able to discern the face of the woman. Her eyes met two emerald ones, unblinking. Cate’s heart skipped a beat. Rooney Mara.  


Rooney got up from the chair, turning to Cate who was still standing by the door.

“Hello Cate. Are you not going to say hello?”

Shocked, Cate let her bag drop on the floor. She swallowed, bringing a trembling hand to her face.

“What are you doing here?”

Rooney crossed the room to stand in front of Cate. 

“Paying you a visit to tell you how magnificent you were last night.”

Cate’s face turned pale when she felt Rooney’s right hand touch her cheek, gently caressing it. Rooney smiled, sensing Cate’s unease.

“Yes, like any other awe struck super fan I was here last night to watch you play Anna Petrovna. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

Cate tried to detect anger or irony in Rooney’s sonorous, lingering voice. But there was nothing.

The last time they had seen each other had been a year ago, after the 2016 Oscar Ceremony. A very disappointing night once again for the entire crew of “Carol”, it had been an ordeal to visit the various afterparties, to smile at the ever present photographers, to be polite during the many interviews. Afterwards, Rooney had begged Cate to come with her, but Cate had refused to come to her LA apartment. Their farewell had been full of emotions, unbearable even. Rooney had been desperate to stay near the woman she had deeply fallen in love with during the months of shooting and promoting “Carol”.

“Cate, come with me. You must know by now that I love you.”

Cate could feel Rooney’s desperation and it hurt her more than she was willing to admit to reject the passionate young woman. 

“Rooney, I…”, she hesitated, putting her hand on Rooney’s bare arm. “I love you too, but not in the same way, not like this…”

Cate’s touch had made Rooney quiver. Cupping her face between her hands, Rooney forced her to look into her eyes. 

“But don’t you feel it too? Don’t tell me that what happened between us doesn’t mean anything to you?”

Looking into the Rooney’s green eyes, Cate saw a passion and intensity that touched but also frightened her. She shook her head, trying to escape from the other woman’s grip.

“Rooney, I love my husband, I love my children. What happened between us was …”, she searched for the right word to describe her emotions on the night they had spent together in the London hotel, “… breathtaking. But I cannot be with you as your … your lover, I do not want to be your lover.”

After those words Rooney had turned away and without saying another word she had left Cate behind. They had not spoken to each other ever since.

So how was it possible that she was here now, in Cate’s dressing room, looking as beautiful as that evening in LA ? Rooney abruptly withdrew her hand from Cate’s cheek, putting it in the pocket of her black coat. Still standing, the two women stared at each other, trying to read each other’s mind. Cate was the first to break the silence.

“You look good. How have you been?”

It was a polite question, one that would have been appropriate if Rooney had been a vague acquaintance, but Cate knew that right now it was insensitive, insulting, even. She smiled bitterly: she, the experienced actress who knew how to convey almost every emotion, did not know how to address her erstwhile, thwarted lover. 

Rooney’s eyes spat fire. 

“Oh Cate, you can do better than that.”

Cate cringed, knowing very well she deserved Rooney’s reproach. Nervous, she started pacing the room. Rooney sat down at the edge of the table in front of the mirror, her eyes following the tall, blond woman. Cate shook her head.

“I know what you must think of me after our last time together. But you must believe me, Rooney, that after you left I was devastated too. I knew that I had hurt you, and that you did not deserve that.” 

Rooney shrugged, why should she believe her?

“But I was afraid also. Afraid of your feelings for me, of my feelings for you. The way you made me aware of a new part of myself. A part that maybe wanted me to leave my husband, to leave my children for an unknown adventure, an uncertain future with you.”

She stopped in front of Rooney and after a slight hesitation put her hands on the young woman’s shoulders. Rooney did not move, her face devoid of any emotion. Cate sighed, but she was determined to show Rooney how much she had grieved about their breakup, how much she missed her. 

“Darling, don’t think that what happened between us has no meaning to me. That you mean nothing to me.”

Her hands caressed the dark hair, tucking it behind Rooney’s ears. Rooney moaned, turning her face away.

“Don’t…”

Cate’s next words were hardly audible. 

“God, I still think about that night, your kisses, the way you made me feel, the way you made me lose myself in you.” 

II.

Cate’s words brought them back to the evening, now more than a year ago, when together they had left the BAFTA celebrations on a whim. They had had enough of the way in which “Carol”, despite the raving reviews, once again was being ignored by the awards establishment. Leaving the Albert Hall, Cate had grabbed Rooney’s hand.

“Do you want to get out of here...”

Surprised, Rooney nodded.

“Then let’s go!”

Cate had approached one of the waiting cars in front of the Hall and managed to persuade the driver that “Miss Mara” wasn’t feeling well and had to be taken back to her hotel. After that they had sat close in the back of the limousine, holding hands while a curious driver checked his rearview mirror every few minutes. 

The man behind the hotel desk had hidden his surprise well when the two beautiful actresses, still dressed in their stunning evening gowns, had entered the lobby much earlier than expected. Handing them their cardkeys he smiled politely, silenced by Cate’s stare that did not give room for any remarks. Taking her arm, she led Rooney to the elevators. 

“Let’s go to my room.”

Once they were inside they had thrown their heels in a corner and, giggling and with some difficulty, had helped each other to take off their chokingly tight dresses. Cate took two robes from the bathroom closet, handing one to Rooney.

“Here, make yourself at ease.”

A few moments later they were lying next to each other on Cate’s kingsized bed, contentedly sipping white wine and watching the BBC news. After a long political item the presenter switched to the BAFTA’s. 

“Oh no, not again…”

Growling, Rooney grabbed the remote from Cate’s hand and switched off the television. They both sighed, then laughed, aware that their sighs were completely in sync. After all these months there was such ease in the way they were together, working side by side during the shootings, the interviews or the endless photo sessions and Q and A’s with an eager public. 

Their fondness for each other had been instantaneous and soon Rooney had managed to overcome her initial shyness, going together with the woman she had admired for so long. Their friendship was based on mutual respect and the awareness that despite their differences, they shared the same views on their profession and on life in general. And there was the easy physicality in their relationship, initiated by Cate. Rooney had always been shy and distant in her friendships, but touching Cate and being touched by her felt very natural. 

Cate reached for Rooney’s hand, took the remote and threw it on the floor. Then she turned her head to face the woman next to her. She smiled and Rooney felt herself drown in the blue of Cate’s eyes.

“Come here.”

Cate’s low voice sounded warm, inviting. It made it easy for Rooney to move towards her, to put her head on her shoulder and to nestle against her long, slim body, while Cate put her arms around her. For the first time in days Cate could relax and it felt good to be together, to feel Rooney’s small body against her, to bury her face in the soft dark hair that smelt faintly of lemon. 

“Mmm, this is nice…”

Trying to get more comfortable, Cate shifted, thus making her robe fall open slightly to partly reveal her breasts. Rooney lifted her head, becoming acutely aware of the fact that underneath their robes they were almost naked. Their growing intimacy felt strangely exciting. Of course, they had seen each other naked before, on the set while shooting their love scene at Waterloo. But there was nothing intimate or axciting about being nude in front of the camera and the crew surrounding it. This was new, taking them into different and unknown territory. Rooney raised her left hand , slowly moving it upwards until her fingers met the soft skin of Cate’s chest. 

“Cate…”

Rooney’s voice quivered and Cate looked down at the woman who was now lying so close against her she felt her warmth permeate her own body. Their eyes locked and Cate saw the emerald turn into a much darker green when Rooney’s hand moved further under her robe, softly caressing her breasts. Cate moaned, instantly feeling her body react to Rooney’s touch.

“Is this okay?” 

Rooney wanted to be certain that Cate wanted this as much as she did. Cate did not answer but instead pulled Rooney closer, now coming face to face with her. Their lips met, hesitant at first, but soon Rooney opened her mouth, giving entrance to Cate’s probing tongue. The kiss was urgent and messy, their mouths relishing each other’s unfamiliar taste and softness, their hands avidly exploring each other’s body. 

When they broke their kiss, they were both gasping, bewildered by what was happening between them. Disentangling herself from Rooney’s embrace Cate sat up, turning her back to her. Pulling her legs against her chest, she rested her head on her knees. 

“Rooney, what are we doing?”

Her quivering voice was full of emotion. She felt Rooney’s hand on her back.

“Something I want, we both want.”

Rooney’s answer was unsettling to Cate. Rooney seemed so certain. But was this really where their friendship, their obvious chemistry had been leading them to? She was a married woman, a mother, she had only known men, sexually. How was it possible that right now she wanted a woman, this woman? 

“I, I don’t know if I am ready for this.”

Cate felt Rooney move behind her, her arms encircling her, her lips touching her ear, whispering.

“Don’t you want me?”

Rooney’s words sent a wave of desire through Cate’s trembling body. 

“God, yes.. yes I do.” 

“Then let me …”

There was no going back now and while Cate felt all thoughts of her husband and children fade away, Rooney pulled her down on the bed, taking away their robes and the underwear they were still wearing. Cate closed her eyes, feeling Rooney’s hands and mouth slowly take possession of her willing body. She craved for the other woman’s touch, moving with her until Rooney’s mouth found the wetness that had gathered between her legs. Cate’s hands then grabbed Rooney’s hair, pulling her face closer, wanting her to take her to the place they had never been before. 

Afterwards, they had cried and laughed at the same time, drunk on the passion and energy that flowed through their bodies. Cate was elated, filled with a need she did not know she had. She looked at the woman lying next to her, took in her fine features, her slim, perfect frame and soon felt her desire return. Rooney’s response was eager and immediate. This time they were not gentle, devouring each other’s body, marking and using it until, exhausted, they fell asleep in each other’s arms. 

III.

Sitting at the edge of the small make up table, Rooney listened to Cate’s quivering voice. She had come here on impulse, like yesterday, when she had decided at the last moment to accept her sister’s invitation to go to the Barrymore and see Cate perform in “The Present”. At first it had been almost unbearable to see the woman who had left her, seemingly without regrets, with a broken heart. But soon she was swept off her feet by Cate’s performance, by the abandon and passion with which she played Anna Petrovna. It was a familiar emotion, making her feel warm inside. How could she not love this woman?

And still, Cate’s decision not to stay with her that evening in LA had left her devastated. She had known there were many barriers between their present lives and a life together: Andrew, the children, their careers, even Charlie, although by then she had already told him that she loved Cate. But the thought of being with Cate had haunted her, like her physical longing for her after their night together in London. 

And now she was here, with Cate, to … Yes, to do what? To throw her grief in her face? To let her pay for the way she had hurt her? It surprised her to hear Cate confess that she too still thought about their lovemaking at the London hotel. To hear her admit that the way they had parted in LA had hurt her too. 

Cate caressed Rooney’s hair and bending down she put her forehead against hers. They were silent for a moment. Cate sighed.

“There is so much fire in you, Rooney, that is scares me sometimes. Ever since our night in London I have seen it burn inside of you. Your love is so intense, so unconditional. And I knew that one day I would be devoured by it, be consumed by it. And I didn’t want that to happen.”

She felt Rooney tense.

“Do you understand me, darling?”

Rooney eyes filled with tears. Cate had confronted her with a side of her that she kept hidden for most people. She did not give herself easily, but against Cate she had had no defences. She knew she could be very intense and had hoped Cate would know how to answer to it. 

With her thumb Cate tried to wipe Rooney’s tears away. 

“I love you Rooney, but I cannot be with you. Not in the way that you want me to be. I am bound to my children, my husband, my work. Please understand that I cannot give you what you need, that I cannot give you my unconditional love.”

Cate’s arms were now around the young woman, pulling her close. She could smell Rooney’s perfume with its faint trace of lemon, taking her back to that night in her London hotel room. She kissed her forehead, her eyes and her cheeks, still wet with tears. 

Rooney clung to Cate’s tall body, reveling in her warmth and the sheer firmness of her strong arms. In a surprising way giving in to her embrace felt like finding consolation, atonement, perhaps. Rooney now knew Cate’s love for her was still there. Once more she was aware of the familiarity with which their bodies fit together. Lifting her head she sought Cate’s mouth. There was a slight hesitation, visible in Cate’s eyes that showed surprise. But then their lips met and the discord that had existed between them faded to the background. It was a slow, melancholy kiss of two women trying to give their love for each other a new and different shape. 

It took some time before they broke their kiss. Then Cate walked to the door of the dressing room where she had dropped her bag when she found Rooney waiting for her at the makeup table. Opening the bag she took out the little box the doorman had handed to her. Turning it in her hands she looked at Rooney.

“May I open it?”

Rooney nodded. Cate removed the plain brown paper to reveal a small jewellery box. When she opened it she saw a golden ring, holding a small, shining emerald. She smiled. The colour of Rooney’s eyes...

“Wait…”

Rooney moved towards her, taking the box from her. She removed the ring and took Cate’s hand. Her voice trembled when she spoke.

“Emerald symbolises hope, prosperity, love. I want you to have this as a reminder of our …”

She faltered, but then regained control of her voice.

“… friendship.”

She put the ring on Cate’s right hand, pressing a kiss on her palm. Then she moved to the door and opened it. But before entering the corridor she looked back at Cate one more time, meeting the ice blue gaze that was only filled with affection. Smiling, Rooney lifted her hand, then turned and closed the door.


End file.
